40-something

Ain't It Grand?
The countdown is underway. I'm now in Indianapolis for my "Grand-Maternity" leave, which could be 8 days long, or 40 days long, depending on the little person growing inside my daughter. September 15 seems like a nice day to breathe in and out and invite a midwife to the house. I'm just sayin'.

I would just like to state one more time, for the record, that I am ENTIRELY TOO YOUNG to be a grandmother. That being said, I have finally decided on my grandmother name! Kacey said it took me longer to pick a name than it did for her to grow a baby, which is nearly true. But this name definitely suits ME, and when I get used to it, I'll share. :D

Swagger Wagon
I finally broke down and bought a mini-van . . . a lovely silver Honda Odyssey, which we have officially named Eddie Van Honda. I made it through the child-rearing years without, but now it just makes sense. I figure I can save the church $1000 this year just by loaning it out for youth group trips, and that's just one of the perks. I had hoped to pay cash for this vehicle, but the Honda was a bit pricey, so the bank and I will share joint custody for awhile.

The Girls say "Hello"
As I was putting the finishing touches on my packing the other night, I lost my cell phone. I mean, somewhere between the 14 bottles of White Rain Pearberry hairspray and the kitchen sink, I LOST my cell phone. I retraced my steps, went through all my suitcases, checked the freezer, and pulled out the couch cushions, but nada. So, I finally gave up and called myself from the house phone. When I did, my boobs rang.

Speaking of the girls, I have THE best friends. The only problem is, if you combine all their ages, I'm still old enough to be their mom. Seriously. I graduated from high school the VERY SAME WEEK the oldest one of them was born. But they inspire me and push me and entertain me and make me appear much cooler than I actually am. I am INCREDIBLY blessed by them.

Okay, time to get some beauty sleep. I need to stay well-rested. When my granddaughter arrives, I don't want these bags under my eyes to be her first memory of me. Nightie night.

The Countdown begins . . .